


Everyone Needs to be Human Sometimes

by Resacon1990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying Derek, Derek Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stiles Takes Care Of Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resacon1990/pseuds/Resacon1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I kicked him out."</p><p>Stiles likes to think that he's use to werewolves randomly turning up in his room at odd hours, but he thinks wrong, proven by the squeak of fright and the small dent in wall from the phone that had been in his hands seconds before as he turns to see Derek crouching on his windowsill.</p><p> </p><p>Spoilers for Season 3, Episode 4</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Needs to be Human Sometimes

"I kicked him out."

Stiles likes to think that he's use to werewolves randomly turning up in his room at odd hours, but he thinks wrong, proven by the squeak of fright and the small dent in wall from the phone that had been in his hands seconds before as he turns to see Derek crouching on his windowsill.

To be more specific a _drenched_ Derek who looks beyond miserable, and Stiles wonders for a brief minute what on _earth_ could make an already miserable man look this torn up before the words actually process, and he frowns. 

"What?" he asks as he gets up slowly and makes his way over to the window, intending to close it because the rain is a bitch at this angle and he doesn't really want his room to be soaked. Derek doesn't move as Stiles reaches around him, merely leaning forward when guided before rocking back in to place when the windows closed.

"Isaac… I…" and of all things Stiles could've been prepared for? A hitched sob from Derek isn't one of them, and he stands watching in some sort of morbid fascination as the man raises a hand and covers his eyes with a trembling hand. His shoulders start shaking as his other arm curls around his midriff and Stiles' eyes widen as he realises that Derek is _crying_ , tearing up, weeping, sobbing and… he stops thinking and takes a deep breath, contemplating what to do, before he steps forward and wraps his arms around the other to tug him into an embrace. He feels the rain on the Derek's body soaking into his shirt but he pays it no mind as he focuses on not letting Derek go despite his resistance, despite the small keens coming from him, and eventually Derek seems to give up and just _deflate_.

"It's okay," Stiles whispers into his soaked hair, his fingers running softly through the wet locks, tugging out the knots clumping around his fingers, and he feels Derek's eyes squeeze shut against his neck, wet eyelashes brushing his skin. Stiles admits he's confused by the situation, unsure of what to do, but he pushes all those thoughts away when Derek's hands slip further up from where they were trapped between their bodies to grasp his shirt in tight fists as he chokes out sobs into his neck and shoulder. Stiles slowly begins to rock them, remembering his mother doing this when he was younger and his father during his panic attacks, and he closes his eyes as he continues to murmur words, "breathe, Derek, just breathe," and Derek does, choked off breaths but breaths all the same.

Stiles steps back after Derek's shaking shoulders still and his sobs turn to small whimpers, but keeps watching with a hand on the others face, thumb stroking across a sharp cheekbone, as he tries to figure out what is rain and what is tears on Derek's cheeks. It takes some will power before he turns around and starts to rattle through his drawers.

"We're going to get you warm and dry," he starts as he shucks off his shirt and pulls on a drier one, knowing Derek is listening, "and then you're going to tell me what the hell is going on. And where Isaac is."

He turns back around, arms laden with more clothes that are hopefully Derek's size, in time to see him slowly nod his head in agreement. He's glazed looking, almost as if he's drugged, as he quietly stands up, an his eyes are bloodshot now, Stiles realises with a wince. He takes a moment to curse his life before he reaches out a hand and offers it to Derek, a wordless offer.

Derek seems to evaluate it for a moment then seems to come to a decision as he reaches out with his own shaking hand and takes it. Stiles smiles and gives it a light squeeze before guiding Derek to the bedroom door, poking his head out to check where his father is and, after hearing the TV downstairs, he pulls them over the landing into the bathroom.

The silence is almost deafening as Stiles orders Derek to strip and sit on the toilet. Derek doesn't complain though and does as he's told, sitting on the porcelain in his boxer-briefs with his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he stares forlornly at the ground. Stiles bites his lip as he looks at the sight, feeling utter sympathy for the man, before he reaches for a towel and steps closer, beginning to pat the other dry. It's methodic, Stiles just gently running the towel over Derek's shoulders, arms, torso, legs and feet before discarding it and reaching for another to furiously rub at the sopping hair.

He knows he sounds insensitive as he giggles at the way it sticks up, but he pushes the thought aside as he reaches for the sweatpants he'd found, offering them to Derek and huffing when the man barely acknowledges them _or_ him. It's a struggle, but he finally manages to fit them on Derek's legs before he tugs them up and gives Derek the stink eye until he raises his hips and Stiles tugs them up over them.

He tries not to think about the situation, and how Derek seems so bloody lost.

"Arms up," he instructs as he lifts the battered Batman shirt, and Derek once again does as he's told and Stiles fits it over his head before tugging it down to met his pants then stepping back to appraise his work.

At least he looks half decent.

He kneels down to shove on the bed socks he'd found in the drawer, a present from Scott last year, and once done he gives Derek's hair another firm ruffle before throwing the towel to the side then stand in front of Derek, fidgeting with his hands and watching as Derek tilts his head back and gives him the most _sorrowful_ expression Stiles thinks he's ever seen. Without thinking about it to much he reaches out and tugs Derek closer once again, pulling his head to rest on his stomach as he begins to card his fingers through the still damp locks. He's proud he doesn't even flinch when Derek's arms come up and wrap around his hips, reeling him in even closer as Derek nuzzles into his stomach.

How on earth dealing with depressed werewolves became his life, Stiles didn't know. But he tries not to think about just how _depressed_ Derek must be if he's trying to find comfort in Stiles of all people.

"Now," he begins after a while of quiet companionship, "stop moping and get up. You have some explaining to do." Once again he offers his hand as he pulls away, and once again Derek takes it as Stiles leads them back to his room. He sits Derek down on the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of him and begins to wait patiently. He feels Derek's eyes on him and he raises his to meet them before offering a reassuring smile.

"I kicked him out," Derek says again, his voice hesitant and hoarse, and he seems to pause for judgement, watching Stiles with weary eyes. Stiles gives him nothing but a small squeeze on the knee, but it seems to be enough for Derek to close his eyes and keep going. "It's… it's for his own good. The Alpha pack, they'll kill him. They'll kill you all."

"How do you know that?" Stiles asks before giving him a small smile and shakes his head. "Derek, you can't just assume-"

"They told me!" Derek suddenly bursts out, his eyes glinting red and Stiles has to fight back the urge to move away. Derek doesn't seem to notice though as he balls his hands into fists and grits his teeth. "They came to the loft today, Deucalion, Ennis and Kali. They came and they talked to me, asked if I wanted to join the pack." He looks up at Stiles, "but the deal was that I'd have to kill _my_ pack."

"Derek…"

"Don't you see, Stiles? Jackson's gone and Scott hates me. I've already lost Erica, I almost lost Boyd, and _Cora_ for a second time. Someone else is going to leave or _die_. I know it. And I can't risk that someone being Isaac," and Stiles knows how attached to the teen Derek is. He knows about he adoption papers in the top of Derek's draw, he knows about Derek's willingness to help the boy with _anything_ and he knows it must've been hard, but he still sighs and drops his head.

"Derek, driving Isaac away isn't going to help him. At least when he's with you he has a chance of survival."

Derek snorts and looks out the window, and Stiles watches his eyes track the rivets of water flowing down the window. "Right, because allowing him to live where the Alpha Pack knows he is will save him."

"Where else will he go, Derek?"

"Scott."

Stiles tries not to let that feel like a blow, but it does because even _Derek_ knows that Isaac and Scott are closer now, closer than Stiles and Scott, closer than Derek and Isaac. He bites his lip and looks at the ground, looks at his twisting hands and closes his eyes to force away the thoughts of how the two of them have lost someone they value the most, how much of a _dick_ Scott is at the moment, how Scott just leaves him for 'werewolf business' all the time and just doesn't seem to _care_. Because it's not about him. It's about Derek.

"You need to let him come back," he says after a moment of heavy silence and he looks up in time to see Derek open his mouth in protest. "No seriously, Derek. You're going to lose Isaac. And I know you don't want that to happen. I know _he_ doesn't want that to happen. He needs you just as much as you need him, you're the only family he has left."

"But the risk-"

"Is the same as it would be if he weren't with you. At least this way you can still protect him." Stiles rises up on his knees and reaches a hand out to cup Derek's cheek. "Don't be an idiot, please."

Derek watches him, his gaze soft, before he closes his eyes and leans into the touch. "I don't know what to do, Stiles."

"You're scared." It doesn't surprise Stiles that Derek doesn't reply and he just smiles as he runs his thumb over Derek's cheekbone. "It's okay to be scared, Derek. It shows you're human."

"Being _human_ won't help anyone."

Stiles falls silent at that, looking at the broken man in front of him and he sighs sadly before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Derek's. "It can help you," he whispers, "everyone needs time to be human sometimes." Derek's eyes flick up to meet his and Stiles sees it, sees the lost look and he smiles as he tugs Derek's face into his shoulder before hugging him tightly.

"Why?" Derek croaks after a few moments and Stiles lets out a breathless laugh.

"Because I care?"

Derek just hums in answer, and Stiles knows it's not the answer Derek wants to reply but he knows, he _knows_ that Derek won't be able to reply with the same words for a long time. Maybe not ever. 

"Come on," he finally says as he climbs up on the bed, pulling Derek up with him, "we should get some sleep. And then tomorrow we can go see Isaac and Scott."

"What?"

Stiles gives him an unimpressed look as he wriggles under the blankets, lifting them up for Derek to crawl under as well, "you heard me. You need to apologise to Isaac and, if it comes down to it, you will _beg_ for him to come back with you. And maybe we can talk to Scott, figure out a plan."

Derek looks at him for a long minute, and Stiles himself soaks in the sight of Derek beside him with his head resting on his pillow and body wrapped up in his blankets before he gives a slow nod, a small "okay" accompanying it as he rolls over, facing away from Stiles.

"Good," is all Stiles says before he shuffles forward and buries his nose into the curve between Derek's neck and shoulder, feeling the man stiffen as his arm drapes over his hips and his leg slips in between his. It takes a long moment, but Derek eventually relaxes and reaches down to slip his hand over Stiles'.

"Thanks," is the quiet whisper, and Stiles smiles as he laces their fingers together and squeezes Derek's hand.

"Don't be such a sourwolf," and Derek chuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> So this came from my inability to not sob over Derek kicking out Isaac. I'm still so mad at him for that. I mean, Derek/Isaac is like my father-son-tp! IT CAN'T END. 
> 
> So yeah. This is just an explosion of my feels.
> 
> (Also, sorry about the little bit of Scott bashing. I still can't stand him after season 2. Him and Allison. I can't stand the main characters. What does that even say about me. My gosh.)
> 
>  
> 
> [HAHA ALL ABOARD THE NOPE TRAIN](http://resacon1990.tumblr.com/)


End file.
